A Ruin Of Roses (Used to be: My Mysterious Husband)

SIXTEEN

𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝙸𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝟽:𝟹𝟼 𝙿.𝙼 𝙼𝙰𝚁 𝟸𝟶𝚝𝚑 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾
[𝙿.𝙾.𝚅 𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴]

We pull up to my mother's house, and a palpable tension hangs in the air. Jaxon and I quickly exit the car, a mixture of anxiety and determination gripping us both. I make a beeline for the front door and urgently begin banging on it.

The door slowly opens, revealing my mother standing there, an unsettling calm in her demeanor. It's as if she's immune to the emotional turmoil that has consumed her home. Ignoring her, I push past and rush deeper into the house, my voice echoing down the hall, "Jayden!"

In response to my call, a quivering voice cries out, "Mommy." Jayden, my cherished son, comes into view, his eyes wide with fear as he rushes towards me, seeking the safety of my embrace. "Mommy, I'm scared," he whispers, holding onto me as if I were the sole anchor in a storm.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I murmur soothingly, "I know, baby. I know," holding him tightly, as if I could protect him from the turmoil that surrounds us.

My mother's voice interrupts the moment, cold and unyielding, "You need to leave."

I can't suppress my anger any longer. "This is my child," I declare with a voice filled with righteous indignation. "I gave birth to him, not either one of you. And now you're trying to take him from me."

Frank, the source of so much pain and heartache, interjects arrogantly, "Without me, he wouldn't be here," his head held high, as though it's a badge of honor.

My anger flares, and I retort with determination, "Exactly! If you hadn't raped me," I seethe, "he wouldn't be here. But here we are, and he's mine. You've met him twice, Frank. Let's see how the judge reacts when I tell him how you married my mom when I was just two and how you hurt me before I moved in with my dad." My words are a torrent of anger and pain.

But I'm not finished. "Or how about the fact that you promised to pay for your son's medical bills and lied about it?" My voice conveys frustration and betrayal.

Frank, unwilling to accept responsibility, responds with a lie, "It's your fault his heart was bad."

My patience is thin, and I demand, "How?"

"You were addicted to drugs," he claims, trying to shift the blame.

With a mix of anger and disbelief, I correct him, "You mean you were addicted to drugs. I was pregnant with a child I shouldn't have been carrying, and the only glimmer of light that came from that dark period was my son. I won't let you take that away from me," I declare, my voice resolute and unwavering.

In an act of cruelty, Frank slaps me across the face, causing me to stagger back, feeling the sharp sting of his violence. But before he can react further, Jaxon jumps into action, delivering a swift blow to Frank's face. It's a moment of poetic justice, a release of pent-up frustration and anger.

Jayden, sensing the escalating violence, rushes forward and grabs Jaxon's arm. "Dad," he calls out, squeezing Jaxon's arm tightly. "It will only get worse, please."

Jaxon, his anger still smoldering, pulls away from Frank and embraces Jayden tightly. "I'm not letting go," he whispers, his voice filled with a resolute determination to protect the family we've become.

"I love you," Jayden whispers, tears streaming down his face. Jaxon, his own eyes glistening with tears, rubs Jayden's head affectionately.

"I love you too," Jaxon says, his voice a blend of tenderness and strength.

Regaining my composure, I stand up and grab Jaxon's hand. "You're not ready for that court date, Frank," I declare, my voice unwavering. I give Jayden one final, tight hug, whispering, "A week, Jayden. You have to be strong."

"I will," Jayden sighs, his determination growing.

"I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too," he replies, kissing my cheek. With a heavy heart, I reluctantly pull away and let Jaxon lead me out of the house.

"Did we get it all?" I ask, my voice edged with both hope and uncertainty. The weight of the situation hangs heavily between us, the outcome of this confrontation pivotal in our fight for justice and the safety of our family.

Jaxon meets my gaze, his eyes filled with determination and a hint of apprehension. He nods solemnly, then reaches into his bag and pulls out a small camera. The device gleams in the dim light of the hallway, a silent witness to the chaos that unfolded moments ago.

"Let's find out," Jaxon says, his voice steady. He begins scrolling through the recorded footage, his fingers moving deftly over the camera's controls. As the scenes flicker across the screen, I hold my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. Each frame captures the raw emotions, the desperation, and the courage we displayed in the face of adversity.